Chapter 22 #2
“Shepherd,” I pant, one hand moving to tangle in his hair. “That feels—oh God—that feels amazing.”
He looks up, his eyes dark with hunger. “You taste even better than I imagined,” he growls, his voice rough. “And I’ve imagined this a lot.”
His tongue circles my clit before he sucks it between his lips. My back arches off the bed.
“Don’t stop,” I beg. “God, I need your tongue. I need you to make me come.”
“Baby, I’m going to make you scream my name,” he promises. “I want all of Portland to know who’s making you feel this good.”
He smirks and the very sight of him there nearly pushes me over the edge. His tongue circles my clit before he sucks it gently between his lips. “Don’t stop,” I beg, my voice barely more than a whimper. “Please don’t stop.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it. You’re so beautiful…
so wet,” he groans. “Is this all for me?” He hums against me, the vibration sending another jolt of pleasure through my body.
His tongue works with expert precision, finding exactly the right rhythm that makes my thighs tremble.
When he slides one finger inside me, curling it forward to hit that perfect spot while his tongue continues its assault on my clit, I nearly scream.
“Yes,” I gasp. “Only you—oh God!” My hips buck wildly, but his arm pins me down as he works me relentlessly.
“Oh God, Shepherd!” The pressure builds low in my belly, coiling tighter and tighter until I’m teetering on the edge. My breathing comes in short, desperate gasps as his finger pumps in and out, his tongue circling my clit with just the right pressure.
“Let go for me, baby,” he murmurs against me, the words vibrating through my core. “I want to taste you when you come. I want every damn drop.”
His words push me over the edge. The orgasm crashes through me like a tidal wave, my body convulsing as a surge of pleasure radiates outward, his name a broken cry on my lips. He doesn’t stop, working me through every tremor, every aftershock, until I’m boneless and gasping.
“Oh my God,” I pant, tugging weakly at his hair. “Come here.”
He kisses his way back up my body, taking his time, treating me like something precious.
“You have no idea how sexy you look when you come,” he whispers against my skin.
When he finally reaches my face, his lips are slick with my arousal, his eyes dark with desire.
I pull him down for another kiss, hungry for the taste of him mixed with the taste of me.
“So that’s what you meant by coffee.”
He chuckles, the vibration rumbling through his chest and into mine. “Best way to start the day.”
“You’re not wrong.”
“Best coffee I’ve ever had.” His erection presses hard against my thigh, and I reach between us to wrap my fingers around his thick shaft. He hisses through his teeth, his hips jerking forward instinctively.
“You don’t have to,” he says, though his body betrays him as he presses into my touch.
“I want to,” I assure him. He’s thick and hot in my palm, already slick at the tip. “I want you inside me.”
The hunger in his eyes makes me shiver with anticipation. He reaches toward the nightstand drawer, fumbling for a condom. His movements are hurried, almost desperate, and something about that—knowing I’ve reduced this controlled man to this frenzied state—sends a fresh wave of desire through me.
“Let me,” I whisper, taking the foil packet from his strong fingers. I tear it open and roll it down his length, loving the way his breath hitches when I touch him.
He positions himself between my thighs once again, his eyes never leaving mine. “Are you sure?”
“I’ve never been surer of anything,” I tell him, wrapping my legs around his hips to draw him closer.
When he pushes inside me, we gasp and moan in tandem. The stretch is delicious, my body still sensitive from his mouth. He moves slowly at first, giving me time to adjust, his forearms braced on either side of my head.
“Mother fuck, you feel incredible,” he groans, dropping his forehead to rest against mine.
“So perfect.” The weight of him, solid and warm above me, anchors me in a way I’ve never experienced before.
He brushes my hair back from my face, his expression so tender it makes my chest ache.
“You’re everything, Sutton,” he murmurs, pressing his forehead against mine.
My breath catches at his words. His gaze is so intense, so honest that I can barely hold it.
No one has ever looked at me the way Shepherd Haynes looks at me.
Like I’m something worth cherishing. “Shepherd,” I whisper, my voice breaking.
I don’t know what to say, how to respond to such naked emotion.
Instead, I pull him closer, my legs tightening around his waist as he begins to move inside me with slow, deep strokes.
Each thrust sends sparks of pleasure through my body, building on the afterglow of my first orgasm.
I run my hands down his back, feeling the muscles flex and shift beneath my fingertips.
His skin is hot to the touch, a thin sheen of sweat making him glisten in the morning light filtering through the curtains.
“You feel so good,” I gasp as he hits a spot deep inside me that makes my toes curl. “Right there, please, don’t stop.”
“Never,” he promises, his rhythm increasing as my nails dig into his shoulders. “I’ll give you whatever you need, Sutton. Always.”
He establishes a rhythm that has me clawing at his back, my nails digging into his skin. Each thrust is measured, purposeful, hitting places inside me that makes my vision blur. His eyes never leave mine, watching every reaction, every gasp and moan.
“You’re so beautiful like this,” he whispers, his voice reverent and raw.
In the past, such praise would’ve made me flinch, but now—with Shepherd—I find myself basking in it. I don’t look away. Instead, I let him see me, truly see me, as I come undone beneath him.
“Don’t stop,” I beg, pulling him deeper.
He shifts slightly, changing the angle, and hitting that perfect spot with every thrust. I cry out, my back arching off the bed as pleasure spirals through me.
His thumb finds my clit, circling with just the right pressure as he continues to move inside me.
The dual sensation is overwhelming, and I feel myself hurtling toward another climax.
“Oh God, Shepherd, I’m—I’m going to—”
“Yes,” he growls, his movements becoming more urgent. “Jesus Christ you’re incredible…the way you take me. Fuck.” He leans forward and sucks a nipple into his mouth and I gasp audibly at the overwhelming sensation.
“Oh, fuck!” His words push me closer to the edge.
I’m clinging to him now, my fingers digging into his shoulders, my legs locked around his waist as he drives into me with perfect, relentless strokes.
I gasp once, twice, three times and then I’m coming harder than I ever thought I could, my body convulsing against him.
My pussy clenching around him like a vise.
“Shit. Sutton. Fuck.” His body stiffens over me as he finds his release, his cock pulsing inside me as he groans my name. He captures my mouth in a deep kiss, swallowing my cries as we ride the waves of pleasure together, his hips still moving in gentle thrusts that prolong our shared ecstasy.
When he finally collapses beside me, pulling me against his chest, I’m trembling and breathless. His arms encircle me, one hand stroking my hair as we both struggle to catch our breath.
“Holy shit,” I gasp, my fingers tracing lazy patterns on his sweat-slicked back.
“Yeah,” he agrees, his voice muffled against my neck. “Holy shit indeed.”
For a moment, we just lie there, tangled together, his heart pounding against mine. I’ve never felt so completely satisfied, so thoroughly undone. My body feels like it’s floating, every nerve ending humming with pleasure.
Shepherd lifts his head, his eyes meeting mine with such tenderness as he brushes a strand of hair from my face, his touch gentle as a whisper.
“You okay?” he asks, searching my expression.
I nod, unable to stop the smile that spreads across my face. “More than okay.”
He kisses me softly before carefully withdrawing from my body.
I wince at the loss of connection as he rolls away to dispose of the condom.
When he returns, he gathers me against his chest, his arms wrapping around me like a shield against the world.
I nestle into the warmth of his body, feeling strangely at peace.
A feeling I haven’t experienced in a long time.
“Did you get enough coffee?” I ask him teasingly, enjoying our lazy morning.
“I will never have enough coffee as long as you’re serving it.”
“Well, who would I be to deny a strong man his morning coffee?” I chuckle softly. “Though I wouldn’t say no to actual coffee now.”
“Demanding,” he teases, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “I like it.”
A little while later, I’m standing in his kitchen wearing his shirt, barefoot on warm hardwood floors, watching him move around like this is normal. Like I belong here. Like I’ve always belonged here.
It’s disorienting to say the least. Shepherd hands me a mug without looking, like he just knows where I am. “Careful,” he says. “It’s hot.”
I take it from him, my fingers brushing his, my body still reacting with a spark all the way down to my toes. “You do this every morning?” I ask, leaning against the counter.
“What? Coffee?” He smirks and shakes his head. “Never like that, no.”
“No.” I smile. “The…calm, domestic, lumberjack thing.”
He huffs out a laugh. “Lumberjack?”
I shrug. “Yeah. You give off strong ‘builds furniture and chops wood for fun’ energy.”
He nods with an appreciative smile. “I do build furniture.”
“So you’ve said.”
“You say that like it’s a problem.”
“It’s not a problem at all,” I say quickly. “It’s just…I don’t know. Annoyingly attractive.”
He raises an eyebrow at me, his mouth curving into that slow, lazy smile that does dangerous things to my insides. “Annoyingly attractive, huh? I’ll take that.”
I roll my eyes but can’t stop my own smile. “Don’t get cocky.”
“Too late.” He leans against the counter opposite me, both hands wrapped around his mug. The morning light catches the angles of his face, turning him into something almost too perfect to be real. “You know what I find annoyingly attractive?”
My heart stutters a little. “What?”
“The way you look right now wearing my clothes.”
Heat rushes to my cheeks and I hide behind my coffee mug, taking a sip that’s too large and too hot. I wince as it burns my tongue.
“I told you it was hot,” he says, his voice tinged with concern.
“I’m fine,” I mutter, setting the mug down. “And I don’t…I don’t look like anything special.”
Shepherd’s expression shifts, something serious replacing his playful demeanor. He sets his mug on the counter and closes the distance between us, not touching me but standing close enough that I can smell the coffee on his breath and feel the warmth radiating from his skin.
“Sutton Price,” he says, my name sounding like something sacred in his mouth. “You standing in my kitchen in my shirt with messy hair and sleepy eyes is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
I swallow hard, my throat suddenly tight. The sincerity in his voice leaves no room for doubt, but my brain struggles to accept it. “You’ve probably said that to—”
“No,” he cuts me off, his voice gentle but firm. “I haven’t because you’re the first and only.”
Only?
“You don’t…you haven’t—”
“Never.”
“Wait,” I say, my brows furrowing. “Are you…I mean, were you, before last night…a virgin?”
He laughs but not in a way that has me feel like he’s making fun of me. “No, Sutton. I’m not a virgin.” He shrugs, sipping his coffee. “I just don’t bring women here. To my house.”
My brows furrowed, I shake my head slowly. “But…the condoms. In the nightstand.”
He shrugs. “Isn’t that where they’re kept? In a nightstand?”
I smile at his boyish question. “Uh, I mean, yeah…I guess.”
He pushes my hair back from my face and softly assures me, “This is my house. My safe space. The only people who ever get to come here are people who mean something to me.”
I don’t have a quick retort or defensive comeback. Instead, I just stare at him, trying to process that this man—this unfairly gorgeous, successful, kind man—is telling me I mean something to him. More so than any past woman he’s ever been with.
“You can’t just say things like that,” I whisper.
“Why not?” His fingers brush my cheek, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “It’s the truth.”
I close my eyes, leaning into his touch despite myself. “Because I don’t know how to handle it. Any of it.”
“You don’t have to handle anything,” he says, his thumb tracing my bottom lip. “I just like that you’re here with me. And if you like being here, I hope you’ll stay. I’d really like you to be my girl. My partner. My girlfriend. Whatever you want to call it.”
“Your lover?”
He smiles. “That too, yeah.” He threads his hand through my hair and kisses my forehead.
“There’s nothing I don’t like about you, Sutton.
In case you haven’t noticed, I’m falling for you.
Pretty damn hard if I’m being honest. But if you need your space and want to be alone…
” He steps back, his smile faltering slightly.
“Then I respect that. Whatever happens between you and me is completely on your terms.”
“You really want me to be your girlfriend? Like for real?”
Why does everything about that make me want to both vomit and smile?
“I really do,” he answers sincerely. “I want you to come watch my games and cheer me on. I want to know I can come home to you, win or lose, and get lost in the night right alongside you. I want to laugh with you and cook meals with you and go thrifting with you and sit at the bar and watch you work even though you never have to work another day in your life if you don’t want to. ”
I cock my head. “Shepherd. Get real.”
He laughs. “I know, I know. You’re Miss Independent.
” I raise my hands in defense. “Totally get it and respect your desire to be everything you want to be. And honestly, I love that you don’t see me as a dollar sign.
You’ve never asked me for a damn thing even though I would happily give you everything. ”
“I don’t need everything,” I say softly. “I just need—”
I stop myself, the word hovering dangerously on the tip of my tongue.
You.
I just need you.
But I can’t say it out loud. Not yet. It’s too much. Too real.
Shepherd watches me patiently, waiting for me to finish my thought, and when I don’t, he simply nods like he understands anyway.
“How about we start with breakfast?”